Ame
by n. yanagi
Summary: Two friends find their paths cross again after 4 years apart. Unfortunately, time can change the heart. OC and Itachi
1. Chapter 1

Author's notes: Ah, after months of mulling over this idea in my head, I finally decided to write it down. I'm open to suggestions, and hope for a lot of feedback. So...enjoy! I don't have much else to say at this point, haha.

Disclaimer: All characters except Miya, the Naritas and Taiki are copyright of Kishimoto. The rest are of my own creation.

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CHAPTER 1

_The intense scream shook her from head to toe, and startled her out of sleep. The night air was heavy around her. Another scream closer to her room pierced the night, but was cut short with dead silence pervading. Terrified and wide awake, she fumbled in the darkness through her room, searching for a garment to pull over her bedclothes. She listened hard: nothing. Her heart beat madly in her chest, and with shaking fingers, she slid open the screen door slowly. A putrid stench filled her nostrils at the first draft of outside air, and she gasped in horror at the dead woman lying before her._

_The blood was just beginning to sink into the floorboards. Her voice caught in her throat. She felt someone watching her and she looked up only to catch a blur of movement pass in front of her eyes. A form settled on the other side of the slain body. It had a familiar shape and size, and when it stepped into moonlight, she recognized it instantly._

_An ache weighed heavy in her stomach and on her heart as she stared at a pair of glowing red eyes. What demon is this, she thought. There was a lust in them: an unsatisfied hunger, but just as much, a hesitation._

"…_Go."_

_What?_

"…_Go!"_

_She shook her head slowly, standing to her feet, but couldn't move an inch further. Tears began to burn in her eyes, but she didn't let them fall._

"_You will not be spared unless you leave now. This is your last warning."_

_His words were spoken in a dark voice. He isn't himself, she thought. He couldn't…. A silver sliver shined beneath the moonlight before slashing across her chest. A searing pain wrenched her body, and the words "go" rung in her ears as she turned and ran. Her path was dark, the wound burning as the wind beat against it._

Miya opened her eyes, the hue of early dawn illuminating her small room. She laid there a minute or two before sitting up, her tangled hair falling over her shoulders. She looked over at the window and smiled a little. The sky was clear today.

Pulling her bed coverings off her legs, she neatly folded her sleeping mat and sheets and set them in a corner, beginning to dress in her work clothes. She braided back her hair and left her room to enter the common room where Mrs. Narita began preparing breakfast.

"Ah, good morning, Miya, dear," said Mrs. Narita cheerfully. The girl nodded with a smile and bent over the toolbox near the door, sifting around for a weeding knife. The woman watched Miya for a while, her small, squinty eyes glinting with careless happiness. Her chubby face was already flushed from leaning over a cooking fire.

"You're not going to help me again?" said Mrs. Narita, as she turned around to continue preparing breakfast. "I don't know why you insist on doing such hard labor when you could help me cook and clean inside."

"I like it," Miya said. "It's a fair price for the trouble I cause."

"Oh stop with all this trouble nonsense!" replied Mrs. Narita, chopping a little louder with her knife. "Why, I remember when my husband first brought you here." She paused, looking up towards the ceiling. "Poor thing, you were all bloody and pale. Thin as a twig! I don't think you'd have survived another night if Shuichi hadn't taken a walk that night..."

Miya pulled the knife out of the box, and eyeing the blade carefully, excused herself from the room. She wasn't fond of reminiscing, hardly remembering her life before arriving to the small farm. She had strange dreams often, though: an older woman yelling at her, a half written formal address sitting by candle light, a boy with piercing eyes. She saw him almost every night.

Taiki was already hacking away at weeds on the far end of the field. Mr. Narita was standing near him, ever watchful of his helping hand. Narita had very leathery skin, due to years working out in the sun. His eyes were unsettling to watch, very beady and partially hidden beneath the wrinkles around his sockets. Miya walked out towards the southern corner and began to cut at the weeds overgrowing the crops.

"What are you doing?" Mr. Narita demanded, surprising her with how quickly he'd arrived to her side.

"Weeding," Miya responded simply. Precise, quick answers were the only ways to speak to Mr. Narita. He was an easily irritated man, especially with her.

"Be done by the afternoon," he said sternly, walking away from her. Miya sighed, looking over the expanse of her quarter then leaned over and went back to work.

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Miya exhaled, standing to her feet after pulling the last weed her sore fingers could hold. She wiped the sweat from her brow and glanced over as the village boy did the same, arching his back. Taiki gave her a goofy grin, noticing her look, a tooth or two visibly missing.

"You're getting a lot better!" he chirped. Miya formed a small smile and turned away quickly. He is not doing this again, she thought.

"You, um…" Taiki started awkwardly. "You doing anything…? I mean, later?" She glanced back at him. His eyes were focused on the ground and his hand was nervously rubbing at his arm.

"Did you hurt yourself?" Miya asked.

"What? Oh!" Taiki crossed his arms then, looking embarrassed. He doesn't have to be so nervous, Miya thought. Silence fell between them. He was handsome, but he was a year younger than her and his mind wasn't at the same level as his body.

"So," Taiki resumed, having found the courage to look at her. "If, you're, uh, not busy…"

"No," said Miya calmly. "I don't think I'll have the time today." She saw disappointment cross his face.

"W-well, ya know, if it turns out you don't have anything, don't forget to come find me," Taiki said, putting on his bright grin for her before a disgruntled Mr. Narita called for him on the opposite end of the field, and he left.

Miya watched him leave, then sat down on the earth between the crop rows and pulled her knees to her chest, resting her chin between them. There was something she longed for that Taiki couldn't give her: an empty place where only a feeling of a memory remained. She closed her eyes. There was darkness for a long while before a boy appeared, his back facing her. It was the same boy she had seen so often in her dreams. Dark clothes, dark hair, but in the middle of his back, there was a symbol. She furrowed her brow a moment, a name emerging just as the image was fading. She wanted to hold on to both, but the image was gone. Opening her eyes, she let the name fall from her lips. "Uchiha."

The wind rustled lightly through the trees that evening, warm air circulating inside the house. Mrs. Narita had just set down the last dish for dinner when Mr. Narita stepped into the door. Miya looked up as he entered, distracted from sewing a patch on an old pair of pants for a second.

"Oh, welcome home dear!" cried Mrs. Narita. " Is all well?"

"First, let me eat," he grunted at her, sitting down at the table and eyeing the food. His constant scowl made it hard to distinguish his displeasure or pleasure with anything, but his twisted face unwound itself a bit as he breathed in the smell of his meal. "Mmm, what is this…?"

"Just enjoy it," Mrs. Narita replied, keeping her back turned to him. There was a long pause of silence and Miya looked up again, wondering why. Looking at the meal on the table, she understood. There was an especially rich choice of meats set before them, as well as a special recipe Mrs. Narita only saved for special occasions, and when they had budgeted for it. Mr. Narita eyed his wife then took a second look at the meal.

"Rie, how much did you spend on this," he asked sternly.

"It's a special night! Miya has been with us for 4 years now! You know we always celebrate," she said in defense.

"Woman, how much did you spend!" he demanded, standing up. Miya watched, holding her breath. They celebrated her rescue every year, but there was always some argument about money that followed.

"It…it was just 6,000 yen, dear, please" Mrs. Narita started.

"Six thousand!" Mr. Narita looked incredulous. "We don't have that kind of money to spend on one meal! "

"Dear, it's a special—"

"What will we eat for the next month?" Mr. Narita demanded, his face red with anger. Miya looked down, starting to sew the patch again. She hated when they argued. The Naritas had no children of their own, and Mrs. Narita had taken a quick liking to her, treating her as her own daughter. Mr. Narita was not as fond of her.

A sharp clack of the screen door ended the argument. He would be too upset that night to eat. Mrs. Narita stood with her gaze low, wearing the kind of expression little kids have when they've been harshly scolded for what seemed just in their eyes. Miya rose from her place and sat by the table. Giving thanks for the meal, she sat quietly again, looking over at Mrs. Narita. The plump woman gave her a small smile and joined her side, both beginning to eat.

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Stay tuned for Chapter 2... 

Also, I'll be using this section to respond to comments, so please leave some. Thank you!


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Notes: I apologize if this chapter is a little strange. I'm not good at developing secondary characters quickly. I hope you enjoy it anyway. Please excuse any OOCness. Thank you!

Disclaimer: All Naruto characters copyright Kishimoto, only Miya is mine.

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CHAPTER 2 

It was not as warm a morning as yesterday. Miya awoke around the same time, a blue hue settling around her room, but something felt odd. She lay on her mat a long while. She had no dream that night. And there was nothing out of the ordinary that would keep it from happening: the Naritas had squabbles over expenses fairly often, and Taiki was always trying to win her over.

Miya looked up at her window. The sky was covering over with dark clouds, a strong wind making them roll and swirl around angrily. She moved to the window and looked out, her head arched up to the sky. A few droplets fell on her face, the wind picking up before a curtain of heavy rain fell across the field and beat hard against the roof. She closed the casement quickly, a light flashing and a low rumble following a few seconds after.

She dressed herself and entered the common room. Mrs. Narita was sewing near a window, watching out of it, and Mr. Narita sat muttering as he turned his pipe over in his hands. The lady looked up as she entered and set her task aside.

"Good morning, Miya," Mrs. Narita said. "I hope the storm didn't wake you." Miya shook her head, taking a seat by the table.

"Well, you can be sure no one will be doing hard labor today. I don't think these clouds will clear up for the whole day, now will they honey?" Mr. Narita grunted once, never lifting his gaze to them. He must dread being indoors with no one but women around, Miya thought with a slight smile.

She was very fond of the Naritas, with their simple way of life, full of hard labor and modest living. Still, she didn't feel like she belonged. Her literacy was more advanced than theirs; so much that the leader of the village nearby, who was the most literate man within miles, could only just match her. Her posture made her stand out, being very straight, while most others stood slouched or hunched over.

A few hours had passed, the rain still falling steadily. Mrs. Narita was trying to keep a fire burning, and Mr. Narita had dozed off to sleep. Miya's eyes began to droop as well until there was a sudden rap on the door, startling everyone.

"Who could that be in such terrible weather?" Mrs. Narita asked, a hand over her chest. Mr. Narita grumbled getting up slowly to answer the door.

"Yes," he asked gruffly, the door open just enough for him to peer out. Miya leaned forward, hearing the tone of a male voice but the rain muddled the conversation. Mr. Narita stayed at the door for about three minutes before stepping back and opening the door wider to admit two tall, dark figures. Mrs. Narita jumped up excitedly, anxious for some activity and happy to play hostess to even suspicious visitors. One was very tall with a huge object shaped like a blade strapped to his back. The other wasn't as tall, but something was still intimidating. Their coats were uniform, with red clouds patterned on them, and straw hats obscuring their faces. Miya stared at the strangers, until Mrs. Narita touched her shoulder.

"Go make some tea for our guests," she said with a bright smile. Miya nodded and went to the kitchen side of the room. She placed a kettle over the kitchen fire and reached for two ceramic cups, placing them on a tray.

"You both must be soaked to the bone! Please, take off your coats and dry off near the fire," Mrs. Narita began.

"We are fine," one of the guests said. Miya paused at the voice. It was deep and icy, but it had a familiar sound.

"Oh! Well, please have a seat then," she said. Miya heard them move to the table and settle there. Mrs. Narita called her husband to come to the table as well and she started up very general, polite conversation. A low hiss of the heated water in the kettle pulled Miya's attention away from them and she picked it up before it was too hot. Adding tealeaves to the kettle, she let it brew for a minute or two, and poured it out into each cup on a wooden tray.

The taller stranger turned his head as Miya approached and set the tray down. She picked up one cup, handing it to him, but she jumped slightly as a pair of blue hands with black fingernails reached to take it from her. She looked up at the shaded face curiously, two pairs of small round eyes glowing back at her.

"Miya, don't stare!" Mrs. Narita quietly scolded her. She lowered her head quickly, too embarrassed to notice the attention drawn to her. She shouldn't have gotten upset, Miya thought. I'm sure she's never seen blue hands before either. Miya pondered who he might be as she carried the tray to the other side, and set it down again. Mr. Narita was busy eyeing the tallest man while she picked up the last cup to give to the other. He reached out, taking it from her. His hands weren't as striking as his friend's, but they were very fair and unmarked. She'd never seen hands like that on a grown man before. If I just take a glance, he won't notice, she thought. She looked up.

Miya's eyes froze on the shadowed face. She couldn't pull them away. Two glowing sharingan stared back at her from the shaded face. The world around her blurred and faded. She felt every beat of her heart. His eyes pierced into her much like the eyes in her dream. The memory of it flashed before her then and she couldn't breathe. It was him. It was."Uchiha Itachi."

A light glinted in his eyes when she said that name, but it was gone quickly and his face turned away from her, his gaze cast on the cup of tea that was growing cold. Reality came back into focus for a moment, Mrs. Narita speaking loudly to her and Mr. Narita glaring at both guests, mumbling something about suspicious strangers. Itachi's companion was looking at him, waiting.

"Miya! What's wrong, dear?" cried Mrs. Narita, worry making more wrinkles on her face. "You're terribly pale!" She shook her shoulder gently. Miya looked up at her and felt herself lifted to her feet, drawn away from the table. She heard Mr. Narita's voice the first time since the travelers had arrived.

"I knew I should have listened to my gut and left you out in the rain! Get out of my house! I don't want no kind of fancy mind tricks played on us," he said angrily. Mrs. Narita looked up as they stood without a word and urging Miya to lean against the wall, she walked to the door to open it. Her hospitable mask had fallen away, her distrust of the men obvious. Miya couldn't say anything. She saw the present, but her mind was flooded with images of her dreams, fragments from her past, and the moment that was now gone. Everything she once was had been unlocked from a single glance.

She looked up. The room was dark; the steady beat of rain, gone. A cricket chirped outside, other insects joining its song. Miya listened to them for a few minutes then turned her head to look around. She was in her room now, the door closed and the Naritas probably asleep. A small cup of cold herbal tea sat next to her. She smiled a little, thinking how worried Mrs. Narita must still be. I'll see her first thing in the morning, she thought. But...how long was I here. She sat up slowly, her head throbbing and dizzy. Putting a hand to her forehead, she pulled her knees up and rested her arms on them. A faint crunch of the woven mat flooring made her start.

"You didn't go far enough..."

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What's going to happen? You'll have to wait for chapter 3 to find out. 

Now it's time to answer reviews:

lonewolf4ever: As you see, Chapter 2 is done. Chapter 3 is in process of being written as I type this. So do stick around.


	3. Chapter 3

**A's Notes:** Ah the long awaited chapter. I'm really glad people are enjoying my story so far. I hope to continue to make things more and more interesting. I'm sorry it's kind of short, but it took a long time for me to find insight into both characters and try to write a dialogue true to their personalities. Itachi is especially difficult to write, but I think I have a better idea of his psychotic brain. Anyway, I'll be a lot later with the release of chapter 4 due to homework priorities. Bah. I'm hoping to have something by the end of the week, and if not, I apologize in advance for making you wait.

**Disclaimer:** All Naruto characters copyright Kishimoto and other respectful owners. Miya and Mrs. Narita copyright me.

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Chapter 3**

Miya spun around, face to face with a dark coat, red clouds embroidered on it. Slowly she looked up to see two red eyes peering at her through the darkness. She swallowed the lump in her throat, her heart thumping hard against her chest.

Words failed her, although she opened her lips to speak. He was the demon from her past, the horrible and vivid memory that haunted her. What does he want from me, she questioned. Why is he here? What happened to him? Her head filled with questions, but none she could force from her lips. Five minutes passed with silence between them.

"What are you staring at?" he finally asked her. Miya turned her face away from him. Fear began to prickle up her spine, but she forced herself to feign calm.

"…I don't know anymore," she said in a small voice.

"It's fortunate that you were never trained. You wouldn't last an hour with your demeanor," he said to her.

Miya looked down, then, noticing her arms trembling, and her body poised stiffly. Her feelings were too strong for her to cover completely. Her efforts discovered, she showed herself plainly. Fear lighted her eyes as she shakily rose to her feet. Itachi watched her expressionless.

"What do you want," she asked, her voice growing quieter as he began to move to the side of her. She watched him from the corner of her eye. His mind was an anomaly. He was a different person than she remembered. Maybe not even a person at all.

"There is only one thing I want from you," he said and grabbed her wrist. She winced about to pull her hand away, but his hold was firm. A kunai appeared in his other hand and he cut across her palm.

"Ah," Miya flinched, watching red well up and overflow from the laceration. My blood, she asked herself, looking up at him and growing uneasy at how intently he studied the fluid draining from her hand.

"You have the purest bloodline, therefore the most potentially powerful," he said, letting go of her wrist and looking to her face. "Unfortunately it's wasted on you."

She narrowed her eyes a little at the remark. She remembered she had made the choice not to be a ninja purposely. The sharingan was a powerful technique, and in her family, one could reach the full extent of that power and master it easily. No one should have that much strength, she'd thought back then. And even so, they are not without some weakness. She still believed it true now, although for some, the weakness was not so simple to find.

"There was a poison in Uchiha blood," Itachi began, rousing her from her thoughts. "I rid the world of it four years ago, but more importantly, I discovered a new level of my strength. Not one of those who stood against me deserved to face me." She stared at him, incredulously.

"How…how could you?" Miya shook her head slowly. For such a shallow reason, he killed everyone, she thought.

She stepped back from him, appalled and grieved. Her heart felt like a lead weight. She'd never reflected on the loss of her family, the kind faces that greeted her when she walked by, the children that played in the streets. But now knowing the reasoning behind their deaths, she was overwhelmed. And most of all because the single person she trusted, confided in, and cared for had done the deed.

Her legs weakened and she fell to her knees, tears burning from her eyes and streaming down her cheeks. Miya sobbed, putting her hands across her mouth, the injured one staining the fingers of her other hand. Her body shook from her sobbing, a long needed release of emotions from her past flowing from her. Itachi, she thought, what have you done? But then it struck her. This wasn't the same Itachi. Her sobbing quieted. A boy with his talents was one in thousands. Uchiha had been a clan with great pride and reputation to uphold. Was that the poison he was speaking of?

Miya sniffed, rubbing her eyes to clear them. She felt weary. Her head ached, swimming with too many thoughts to sort out. It must have been this kind of confused state Itachi had been waiting for because he suddenly held out his hand to her. She looked up at it, then to his face.

"Come with me," he said. She furrowed her brow.

"What?"

"Come with me." How should she answer? She knew what he wanted from her, and even with the possibility that his new person was not of his own doing, that alone wasn't enough. She didn't have a chance to consider further before a gentle tapping sounded at her door. Miya turned quickly to look back at it. Itachi was unphased.

"Do you want to work on a farm around simple people for the rest of your life?"

Miya turned back to him.

"Miya? Are you all right, dear? I thought I heard voices," Mrs. Narita spoke from behind the door. Miya turned her head towards the door slightly once more, but then to Itachi.

He was silent, his hand still outstretched to her. She was torn. Itachi had become something she didn't trust, that she feared, and she had lived a pleasant life with the Naritas. It didn't bother her to work hard everyday, earning her privileges and making a place for herself there. Yet, looking into his icy, placid gaze, there echoed a fading soul whom she'd longed to see again one day. He's still alive, she thought. But if I'm not there, he'll die. That was the reason she needed.

"Sweetheart?" the voice at the door called to her. Miya stood slowly, the world slowing down around her. She kept her eyes fixed on Itachi's. The door began to slide open. She reached out and took hold of his hand. Mrs. Narita's eyes widened in terror when the door had opened completely. Miya felt herself pulled in to Itachi's side, his arm wrapping around her and holding her tightly. His gaze was straight ahead, his body turned towards the window. She looked away from his face just in time to see Mrs. Narita one last time. The poor woman's scream rung in her ears before it was lost in the roar of wind rushing by. Time resumed itself, a blur of green and black rushing by her as she was carried off. She closed her eyes. Thank you for everything, Rie, she thought. I'm sorry…goodbye.

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Woo, I'm happy to have reviews! 

Suna-Tsuki-Koinu: Ha, sorry, I'm a huge fan of cliff hangers. It keeps people coming back for more.  
Silver Arrow112: Whoa, didn't know that the ending was that mean.

Temari-21: Yeah, I always thought it wasn't a bad idea to write on. I was wondering one day what Itachi must have been like as a child and kind of came up with a starting plot for this story.

silvya: Thank you!

candle-rain-chan: Wow, I'm flattered, thank you.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Notes: **Hey, kids! Chapter 4 has been one of my favorite ones to write. I really love Kisame's character here, but not sure it's all that in character. Ah well, I tried. Next update will probably be in another week or so. No promises!

**Disclaimer:** Naruto characters (Kisame and Itachi) belong to Kishimoto. Miya is mine.

**

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**Chapter 4**

The blur of passing trees and foliage suddenly came into focus. The calm of early dawn replaced the roar of the wind in Miya's ears. Itachi's arm fell from around her and she slowly let go of his coat, her feet feeling solid ground beneath her. She was a bit shaken, never having traveled on the branches of trees at such speed. Itachi wasted no time, taking her wrist and leading her through a line of brush. His hold was tight, and she winced, trying to keep up with his quick pace. After a few minutes, they reached a cleared area beneath thick branches of trees where sunlight could just barely shine through.

"Kisame, we have a guest," Itachi said, pulling her in front of him. Miya stumbled forward a little, her eyes drawn to the other man's face. He had a pair of gill-like slits beneath his fish-like eyes that stared at her vaguely. His eyebrows lowered.

"Is this wise?" Kisame asked, looking to Itachi.

"Don't question me," he answered and pushed Miya towards the ground. She fell over, sitting hard on her side and turned back to Itachi, frazzled.

"Sit and be silent," he said, intolerable of any complaint she might have offered. Itachi moved from her to sit by Kisame, and they commenced a private conversation, their voices kept too low for her to hear. She sighed, watching them a little while when a bird sung out and she raised her head to look for it.

In doing so, she realized just how beautiful this place was surrounding her. It felt ancient with towering trees whose branches began at least fifty feet above her head. Like a temple from nature, she thought, her gaze lingering above. A breeze rustled the upper canopy, causing a few leaves to float gracefully to the floor below. I wish I could climb up there, she thought again. I wonder what I would see?

"You're easily amused," Kisame's voice called over to her. She looked at him, her thoughts interrupted. Itachi had disappeared. Kisame could read the question in her face before she said a word.

"You'll see Itachi again later. I'll be taking you to our hideout," he said, not looking all that pleased with the task. Miya felt unsettled. She hardly knew this person, and now she had no choice but to trust him or be lost. But Itachi wouldn't risk my death, she thought. Her blood was the only reason…she bit her lip, standing up slowly.

"Your name is…Kisame?" she asked him.

"Hoshigaki Kisame."

"Mr. Hoshigaki, I hope I will be no trouble to you," Miya said, attempting to be as polite as possible. Kisame made no recognition of it, picking up his sword and beginning to walk.

"Don't get lost," he said gruffly. He's a little like Mr. Narita, Miya thought. Mr. Narita…I'll miss him. And Mrs. Narita, most of all, but I can't live my life with them when there's a chance for part of my past to be returned to me. This is how it must be.

"Hey! I said don't get lost. I'm not going to go look for you," yelled Kisame, annoyed. She was about ten feet behind him.

"S-sorry!" she cried, running to catch up and making sure to pay more attention with her eyes if her mind wandered.

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Miya pushed her hair back from her face, fanning herself with her hand. The midday air was very warm, even under the shade of trees. Kisame and she had been traveling the entire time, not stopping to take a break and neither saying much of anything. Miya had given up trying to keep with his pace. She consistently lagged between five and ten feet behind him. Her legs ached terribly. She took another step when a painful numbness throbbed in her calf. She hissed in a breath and stopped, lowering herself carefully to the ground.

"Ouch," she whispered, running a hand over her calf.

"Mr. Hoshi-," she began to call, turning her head back to the path but he was already beside her.

"My leg is cramped."

Kisame sneered a little, looking at her leg then back at her.

"What am I supposed to do about it?" Miya narrowed her eyes a little, her exhaustion making her a little irritable.

"You could help me," she said. Kisame caught the tone in her voice and he glared, his apprehension of her becoming more justified.

"Look, little girl, you're lucky Itachi finds something valuable about you because, if left up to me, I'd have killed you and taken your blood with me rather than put up with you alive."

"I'm glad it's not up to you then," Miya retorted. "I haven't been trained as a ninja. I can't run at super speeds or use jutsus to help me." Kisame was unmoved.

"Too bad," he said. "You'll have to deal with it. Now, get up! I've survived far worse than a measly leg cramp."

Miya tightened her lips. She wasn't used to unfeeling men like Kisame. She pushed herself up from the ground and tried to take a step with the cramped leg, but the same jolt of pain made her stumble a bit. She tried again, with the same result and continued until her other leg began to hurt in the same way. Kisame watched her, serious at first but as her walk became more strained, he started to crack a smile, then a grin. He laughed.

"You're pathetic," he said, walking up to her. "You'll cause more trouble for me if I don't help you at this point." He reached across pushed her behind him.

"Get on," he said, crouching down a bit. Miya hesitated; she was a little scared to be that close to him.

"I said, get on, damnit! I don't have all day to wait for you," he growled back at her. She pushed aside her rattled nerves and reached for his shoulders, getting on his back. He looped his arms around her legs and held to her lower thigh just above the knee. As he stood up straight, Miya clung a little tighter, seeing just how high up from the ground she was now. His grip tightened and before she could brace herself, Kisame shot off into the trees. She squeaked, holding on for dear life.

"Aghck!" Kisame readjusted her position on him, loosening her arm from around his neck. "This'll work better if you don't choke me."

"Sorry!" she cried, her eyes closed tight. The air rushed over her arms and face, her hair blown back from it. A leaf or two would hit her, but it didn't hurt. Every change in Kisame's step she could feel. She'd gotten used to the feeling of his blade against her stomach. Slowly she opened her eyes. The forest rushed past her. The only thing in clear focus was the distance in front of them.

"Mr. Hoshigaki?"

"Stop with that Mr. Hoshigaki crap! I'm not an old man," he said more annoyed than before. She paused.

"…Kisame, what's Itachi like," she asked. Kisame didn't answer for a while, but she thought she heard him smirk.

"Why do you want to know?"

"…We used to be friends a long time ago," said Miya more quietly. There was no mistaking Kisame's laugh.

"And you think everything will just fall back into place now? My, you're foolish, " he said still snickering.

"I didn't say that. I just wanted to know…know who he is now," she said. Kisame snorted.

"He's a man who won't let anything get in the way of his goals. Not even Akatsuki could make him back down," he said. There was great reverence in his voice as he spoke of him. "He never bothers with unnecessary details. Although, since he's decided to keep you around, I don't know if that's true anymore."

Miya was used to his distaste for her by this point, but she worried about his description of Itachi. He sounded ruthless.

"Nothing will hold him back?"

"Nothing. Emotions only weaken the soul and mind. Attachment provides one's enemies with a weak point. To fear is to die, to be feared is to survive."

A set of rules for a ninja live by, she thought. No wonder Itachi is dying inside himself. His cold red eyes and hard face…she could see him in her mind. His expression rarely changed, the sharingan ever present. His forehead protector with a scratched line across it denounced his affiliation with Konoha. Black nails, a tall-necked black coat with red clouds, and the straw hat affirming his new self. But there were parts of him still familiar to her: his hair, dark as night, lay wispy around his face; his voice, deeper and not as warm, was his own; the two marks beneath his eyes, his family trait.

But he was a murderer. And probably wanted in every village.

"We're here," Kisame said, and Miya looked up. They were at the base of a mountain, on a thick branch. The trees tapered off and grew smaller as the slope elevated upwards.

"You'll see Itachi at the top, so you can stop daydreaming about him now," Kisame said with another snicker, leaping off the branch and making his way to the top with her. Miya would have snapped a witty remark back at him, but this time he was sort of right.

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To be continued...Chapter 5 

I decided to respond in bulk since most of the comments were similar. Thanks everyone for reading my story and reviewing it! I had some trouble in the beginning (I hadn't planned that out before hand) but now that the middle is coming, I think my writing will get better. Anyway, thanks again and continue to read and review! Kiss kiss!


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Notes: **Wow, this one came unexpectedly. I was thinking i would write again in a few days, but I just felt like it now. So here you go, a very fast update for me.

**Disclaimer:** Naruto characters are Kishimotos babies. I only own Miya.  
**

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Chapter 5**

"We're here," said Kisame as he leapt up on a final ledge. This cliff edge was more spacious than the others, but there was nothing there except the uniformly jagged face of rock. Miya raised her brows in wonder. Was this all?

Then, Kisame's hands came together and he performed a jutsu, the rock face suddenly disappearing and a clear cave opening appearing in its place. She blinked a few times, eyes widening and squinting. She wasn't imagining things. Kisame nudged her with his elbow.

"You can get off," he said, turning his head towards her. Miya looked at the ground.

"It's…kind of high," she said. Kisame pursed his lips and crouched to the ground. Her feet found it and she let go. He started for the cave opening, but she stayed in her place, hesitant to enter a place that didn't exist a moment ago. He looked back at her exasperated.

"What's your problem now! Quit being a nuisance and get over here!"

She quickly came to his side, squeaking out an apology. He's very scary when he's annoyed, she thought, still looking intensely at the cave opening. It was a clever jutsu, but disturbing in how things materialize from nothing. Stepping into the cool shadow of the cave, she looked up as they passed below the rock archway and into the darkness. There was light shining in behind them for awhile before fading.

Miya took an extra step closer to Kisame, the light from outside beginning to fade away into the dank path. She rubbed her arms, a warm yellow light starting to show against the rocky wall. A torch was set in the wall and another shone a few feet ahead. Kisame's dark silhouette seemed to glide down the path, his feet hardly making a sound. Turning a bend, they were faced with a dead end. She looked up at him, watching his hands do a similar gesture as before and place some written inscription on the wall. The rock disappeared before her eyes, and a more polished hall shown on the other side. Electrical lights shined from above, the light still warm but less dim. The floor had wood paneling and the walls were white plastered with a wooden beam imbedded about waist high along both sides.

Kisame pressed on in silence, passing a few doors on the way. She eyed one of them that stood out, colored blue with a few characters on it, but kept on, trying not to loose her guide through the maze. Turning another bend, Miya saw an evenly spaced line of doors, all red-stained wood and blank. He led her down the hall, and then stopped at the second to last door.

"You'll stay here," he said, turning to her at last. She looked up at him and he only met her eyes for a second before opening the door and motioning for her to enter. Miya stepped inside.

It was simply furnished: a narrow bed, a small table with a pitcher and bowl on top, a mirror and a small window. No Itachi.

"Kisame, where-" she began when the door was closed on her. That's rude, she thought, but he doesn't like me at all, so I shouldn't expect much. Miya sighed, walking towards the bed and leaned over to press her hand down on it. The mattress only gave a little bit, packed very tightly. It's too hard, she thought. Looking around again, the whole room was barely enough to fit a single person, and it dawned on her that she was likely considered a prisoner as guests were never given rooms so sparse.

She glanced around the space again, her eyes lingering on the mirror. She hadn't seen her face clearly for years. It hadn't mattered when all she was doing was farm work. A rippled image in a bucket of water or a translucent reflection on the window glass had been sufficient. She took a step towards it. What if I'm ugly, she wondered. Another step. I won't know unless I look. She kept her eyes lowered as she took a final step, timidly glancing up at her face.

Her hair was overgrown, her bangs nearly covering her eyes. The sides were a little straggly. Her skin was a little brown, but still much fairer than the people of that tiny village who'd worked in the sun all their lives. Her dark eyes stared back at her, that distinctive curve and hue reminding her of her legacy. Raising her hand to her forehead, she pushed back the long hair from over her forehead. Her lips began to curl into a small smile. She didn't think herself a ravishing beauty, but she wasn't plain or ugly.

Letting her hair fall back over her face, she turned away, moving towards the window. The outside air felt cool as she came up to it. The expanse of the forest below spread out towards the horizon. There was nothing else discernable beyond that. The sun was beginning to lower in the sky, a few birds flying in the distance.

She stepped away from the window and sat down on the small bed. It felt like a stone beneath her. Sighing again, she began to miss the farm even more. You're a fool, Miya, she said to herself and laid down, closing her eyes. Her mind drifted to memories…Mr. Narita throwing a fit about a pair of rabbits eating his vegetables, the first time she had Mrs. Narita's specialty dish, the warm smiles of the villagers as she got to know them, and farther still her mother's soft humming on a rainy day. A warm spring rain….

_A woman's voice sung quietly, her eyes raised to the sky, watching raindrops fall and drip from the roof. Her teacher had not come today, and she was glad of that. The advisor had given her a scroll to practice formal addresses on, but it was so boring, she'd kept nodding off. She'd set it aside now and sat near the outer door, watching. _

_Thunk!_

_She looked to the back wall beyond the garden. The noise came again. The woman's voice had faded off to another wing of the house. She was alone. Glancing behind her shoulder to be sure, she pushed the outer door open wider and stepped out, running barefoot into the rain, cool, wet grass beneath her feet._

_Thunk!_

_The sound was coming from behind the wall. She followed along it until reaching a wooden gate. Unlatching the lock, she opened it slowly peeking beyond._

_A boy stood in the road, drenched with a few kunai in his hands. His face was turned away from her, staring intently at an overgrown tree on the wall. There was a splintered mark in the trunk of it. She closed the gate as quietly as she could and tip toed near him. He was about to throw a kunai, but paused and turned to her, not surprised by her presence._

"_What are you doing?"_

"_Wow, you could hear me?" _

"…_Anyone could." _

"_Oh."_

_She blushed, embarrassed._

"_I'm not a very good ninja I guess." _

"…_."_

"…_Uhm…are you training to be a ninja?"_

_She pointed at his kunai._

" _I'm already a genin." _

"_Wow, are you? You don't look older than me, though. I'm only seven."_

"_Everyone says I'm special."_

"_Are you?"_

_She smiled at him. He stared at her._

"_...Maybe."_

"_I think you're special."_

"_You don't know who I am."_

"_Oh…well, what's your name?"_

"_..."_

"…_Erm, my name is Miya." _

"…_Uchiha Itachi."_

_She laughed._

"_You don't have to give me your full name. I can see the crest on your back."_

"_I was being polite."_

"_Ah, sorry…I just get tired of manners sometimes."_

"…_You live here?"_

_He pointed at the large house beyond the gate. _

"_Yes. I'm successor of a special bloodline or something like that. I don't really care."_

_He looked confused._

"_Why?"_

"_It's annoying! I always have to do this and that a certain way and wear stiff, uncomfortable clothes, and learn all these weird traditions and I hate it! I can never do what I want."_

"_What do you want?"_

_She looked up._

"_I want…a normal life. Where I can be myself…."_

"…_.I think I understand."_

_She looked back to him and smiled. He smiled back. _

Miya opened her eyes. Evening had arrived while she'd been asleep. She rubbed her eyes and sat up slowly. A tray of food sat on the table across from her. She got up and lifted the cover. A bowl of rice with a minimal sprinkle of vegetables and two thin cuts of fish awaited her there, lukewarm. She made a face, but her stomach lurched and she couldn't leave it. Slowly chewing her food, she looked over at the window, the last rays of sunlight streaking across the sky. It reminded her of his smile: a beautiful moment that passed much too quickly.

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Next...Chapter 6 

Again, thank you all for the kind reviews! I'm always glad to get them, so please write more! Until next time!


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Notes: **Wow guys, sorry this chapter was not as quick as the others. I'm in the middle of finals so very little time for anything but work. I managed to write this on some downtime, so forgive me if it's slightly cheesy. I tried to stay true to the characters.

**Disclaimer:** Naruto (c) Kishimoto, Miya (c) me.

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**Chapter 6**

Miya took the last bite of her cold dinner, swallowing it hard. Slumping back, she glanced up at the small window, spotting a few stars peeking behind wispy clouds, a cold wind whistling past. The food settled uncomfortably in her stomach and she put her hand over it. With a little grimace, she stood up and slid back to her bed, lying down once more. Sighing, she stared up at the ceiling, the blackness of night almost making it disappear.

"You're not tired already, are you," asked a deep voice. She felt a chill tickle her spine and sat up, staring over at Itachi in her doorway. His gaze cut away from hers to her quarters.

"So, Kisame chose this cell…" he said, thinking out loud purposely. Her eyes twitched once, catching the not so subtle affirmation that she was a prisoner.

"What do you want with me?"

"I told you before. Are you that forgetful?" Itachi glanced briefly at his nails then over to her.

"I meant, why didn't you make it easier for yourself…?" And end this hell for me, she thought.

"Unfortunately, I need you alive," he said, but he didn't understand what she meant. "Get up and follow me. "

She stood and followed, more desirous of leaving the cramped, cold room than avoiding an unknown, potential danger. Shivering, she stepped into the hallway, rubbing her arms. Itachi looked away and started down the way she'd come with Kisame. There was no way to tell what time it was in the halls, the lights always the same. Miya looked at them as she passed beneath, the corner of her eye on Itachi's form.

The electric lights suddenly ended, the hall beginning to darken before the warm glow of lanterns assumed the task of lighting the path. She lowered her eyes and stopped short, looking around in surprise. The walls on the outer side were polished stone, and on the inner side, paper and wood screens lined the rest of the hall. A weight hung in her chest. It was so much like home.

"Don't be idle," Itachi scolded from the end of the hall, the door panel slid open. The light from inside cast a warm glow on half his face, the other partially obscured in darkness. She came up to him and he stepped back for her to enter.

The room Miya stepped into was so unlike the rest of the place. There was a lower floor for shoes and belongings just beside the doorway and another towards the middle with a large, black lacquered table, floor cushions set beside it on each side. The upper floor, had beautiful crimson curtains hung around the entire room, except around three screens where a bluish light cast faint shadows on the floorboards, and tall shoji screen lanterns cast light from every corner, a smaller lantern set in the middle of the table. In the middle of one wall, another pair of screen doors hid away a different section of the room. She was frozen in place, awed by the sight before her.

Itachi slid the door closed behind him and with shoes removed, stepped up to the higher floor, walking towards the table. A scroll, pen and inkwell lay on top of the table, a bowl beside them. He pulled up a sleeve of his coat, and picking up the pen, began to write, not taking any notice of her. Miya watched the serious expression on his face, and finding it unchanged for at least ten minutes, her attention strayed to other parts of the room. She felt so out of place: her hair was disheveled, clothes stained and ragged, and body unwashed. It doesn't matter, she thought. I'm not here to impress anyone. She looked to Itachi again.

He stared straight ahead, paused in a thought. His eyes unfocused and body relaxed as his mind strayed to a far distance in his conscious. Gently lit as he was, his demeanor didn't seem so cold. He was almost approachable if not for his intense staring into nothingness. His eyes shifted to her and he turned his head slightly.

"Come, sit," he said, more welcoming than Miya would have expected. She moved forward, stepping up on the raised level and approached, taking a place perpendicular to him. Itachi resumed writing. His eyes distracted, she examined his face more closely. His angles were emphasized by the dark shadows, his cheekbones standing out the most. His hair gently brushed over his cheeks, glimmering with a golden hue, his long, dark eyelashes casting faint shadows just below his eyelids. Two clefts marked each side of his face. His nose was slender, just the right proportions for his face, and his lips the same: just right with a delicate shape and a slight pout, although it looked more like a grimace now. He was extremely handsome; and if not for his crime, he would have been all the pride of the Uchiha clan.

"What do you find so interesting?" Miya snapped to attention, finding Itachi's eyes on her own. She was stumped for an answer then, her cheeks starting to get warm. He waited a minute before reaching out and taking her wrist.

His grasp was suddenly tight and all feeling of safety fled. Itachi pulled out a kunai and cut a clean line across her upper wrist. She winced, sucking in her breath and tried to pull back. His hand only held tighter, the other squeezing and rubbing down her arm to help the blood flow out. Miya squeezed her eyes closed, not wanting to see the red fluids drip from her wound. It stung painfully, her whole arm starting to tingle and loose feeling.

"Ah! I-Itachi, stop!" She tried again to pull her arm back, her fingers numbing from lack of circulation. He only continued, ignoring her pleas.

"STOP!" Miya cried louder, her arm gradually going numb too. He rubbed twice more before letting her go. She grabbed to the wound, holding it in to herself, tears of shock welling in her eyes. Itachi stood calmly and walked out of her sight. Miya sniffed, confused and shaken and a moment later he returned, reaching for her arm again, but she turned from him.

"No!" she cried. He said nothing, taking hold of her wrist regardless and wrenched it away from her forcefully. She didn't struggle as much, so as not to injure herself further, but she trembled, looking away, afraid of what other thing he was planning to do.

"I'm done," Itachi said to her, letting go of a now bandaged wrist. She opened her eyes and folded her arm against herself, looking up at him perplexed and upset. He ignored her, beginning to write once again, as if he had done nothing. Miya's lips tightened.

"Itachi, why did you do that?"

He continued with his task. She narrowed her eyes, her tears dripping down her face.

"Itachi, don't ignore me! You don't just take someone's blood and not tell them why!" Then she remembered: that was the only reason he was keeping her. She looked down at the bowl. It was about the size of a rice bowl, nearly full of her blood rather than rice. Something about it scared her. Is he going to do this every night, she wondered. She would die.

Miya gasped, suddenly feeling the urge to move away from Itachi very quickly. He was going to kill her, slowly and painfully. The meager dinner she was served was her only rejuvenation and each night he would slit a part of her body and drain it!

She shook her head. No, no…he wouldn't, she thought and looked up at him. He still sat calmly; his pen paused above the paper. But it's possible, she thought again. She didn't know his mind, what kind of reasoning he had. He very well could be trying to kill her. He murdered their entire clan after all, and it would make sense that he would want to finish it completely. But he let her go.

"You'll hurt your head trying to read into me," he said, cutting through her reasoning. Miya looked to him again, her eyes full of uncertainty. Itachi set down his pen, rolling up the scroll and looked up at her.

"Leave, I'm done with you."

"I want to know why."

"…. It's not for you to know," he said, turning away and standing up. She stood as well.

"I have a right to know! You drag me up here—no, your subordinate drags me up here and throws me into a miserable hole in the wall, I get a cold dinner that's tastes like it's two days old and now my wrist has been slit and my arm bled without any consent or explanati—achk!"

Itachi grabbed her throat, slamming her to the floor. Her eyes went wide before squeezing shut, her hands clawing into his arm, his fingers tightening around her.

"Don't get cocky. I explained what I wanted before I presented your choices. You chose to come, therefore accept the consequences of it." She squirmed, her body twitching in need of air, and she let out a strangled scream for as long as she could before her consciousness began to slip and her hands could no longer defend her. He let go then, and she gasped and coughed, turning over. Itachi stood up.

"Kisame," he called. The shark man slid the door open, having stood nearby since he heard Miya scream. Kisame glanced down at the girl then back to Itachi.

"Take her back to her room. If she complains of anything, you are at liberty to silence her as you will…except to kill her," Itachi added, knowing Kisame's temperament towards her.

Miya felt herself picked up as she was still coughing. Her head felt like it'd been split in half, a bruise formed in the back of her head. She felt lucky to only have that. The room distorted before her eyes and she closed them to avoid becoming sick. She was coherent enough to recognize Kisame's gruff handling of her and a moment later the stone-like mattress was beneath her. Miya groaned, opening her eyes slowly. She was alone again, the tiny room swaying slightly in the darkness. She closed them, silent tears making damp spots on her pillow.

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Well I updated and I'm too tired to look at comments to make a comment, so stay tuned for Chapter 7.  



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